You're My Mate
by LisaandMarie
Summary: Nesta inspected me, hands roaming my body, weeping at the newfound changes. But I only noticed his hands as they slackened against his side. One more tug, this time in my heart. His voice cracked as he breathed in disbelief, "You're my mate."


_**Elain**_

All I could discern in the bleak emptiness were the loud, persistent grunts and hollers of my sister. But—I was drowning, and yet I was alive and ablaze. The liquid seeped into my skin, replacing my soft, pale skin with a glimmering layer of radiance.

I couldn't see it—couldn't quite feel the sensation—but I was aware. Painfully aware as my life was stripped away from my grasp, everything a distant memory fading.

Perhaps this was the end. I would never be awoken, never glance outside our window, into the smoldering gaze of the sun, kissing the skies above. I would never taste the afternoon mist in my garden. And Nesta. . .

The end.

Every muscle in my body tensed at the realization. I was no longer here; no longer alive. I was falling, falling, falling. Into a dark oblivion—into a faint, dimly lit hole.

And yet. . . yet I clung tightly to whatever was on the other side, clasping this tiny thread. So thin, this thread, but as tears stained my cheeks, it stroked me and calmed me and reassured me.

Home—I was going home, as it hauled me up, up, up. I nearly let go, nearly gave up. . . but faintly I could hear a vague murmur of understanding, of pain, of sorrow. Of wit, too, and laughter. . .

My eyes were sealed, but the surface was close—so close I could brush it with my fingertips, could feel the breath in my lungs returning.

Before I knew it, I'd been washed away onto the stones,the cool air kissing my skin, forming goosebumps as nearly every inch of my skin was revealed. My nightgown had been lifted, its bare ends slightly ripped—and suddenly the memory clutched me, of the husky voices as they approached, shredding the sheets, tearing my nightgown as I tried to slam my fists to get free—

I inhaled sharply as I opened my eyes, the view of stunned faces, angry faces, scowling faces. . . and pity-struck faces clouding my vision.

My gown hitched higher on my waist as I attempted to stand, to run to Nesta, who's roar echoed within the room. My nightgown was soaked—and I knew it was clear. . . I sucked in a breath.

I wanted to cry, to run, to be. . . normal again.

The gag they'd thrust into my mouth tasted sour against my lips. I gazed down, to my arms, my bare legs. . . an irrevescent glow, I noted, the same one I'd seen my sister with, though it hadn't appeared so bright, so real.

My delicate fingers, slender and long—the same as they'd been before, but somehow so different, as if power and strength oozed out of them. I brushed the single strand of my sodden hair that had slid onto my face away. But—but as I reached, my hand lingered near my ear. . . to confirm my thoughts, why their gazes were casted directly on my face—

The breath had been knocked out of me as my fingers grazed the sharp point. I cried out, but the sound was stifled by the gag, and more tears slid along my cheeks.

Fae. I was Fae—

The guards snickered, their familiar faces flashing in my vision—depthless gazes raking over my form.

And a voice—a voice I recognized, but couldn't discern, erupted, releasing a snarl so guttural as it addressed my current state, "

Don't just leave her on the damned floor

."

For a brief moment, I was blinded, a flash of light so bright exploding in my vision. A single scrape, and frantic footsteps, rushing, rushing, rushing. To me, I realized.

Before I could register that someone had

come

for, and hadn't been

disgusted

, a male knelt before me, arms wide, offering a jacket. I choked back tears, clutching the jacket beneath my new fingers.

He looked familiar, yet he was a complete stranger, and I couldn't quite grasp the tug I felt—

His stiff posture, furrowed brows. . . I whipped my head towards my sister. The sister I had temporarily forgotten, staring at the male—

Guilt seeped into me as my eyes casted towards. . . towards a thrashing Nesta, being hoisted into the same bucket as I was. And as the realization struck me, a desperate wail—concealed by the gag—slipped between my lips.

Mere humans, her and I, transformed into Fae. As Feyre had been, as. . . as we were now.

I spun my gaze away, shuddering at the memories. Of drowning, of

dying

.

This was our new reality.

Arms hauled me upwards as the bucket tipped once more, dark water lapping around it.

Deep in my heart, I was aware I couldn't smile this situation away, couldn't talk it away, spin it the way I liked it. Nesta bolted towards me, anger and power flickering in her eyes, replaced shortly by horror and shock—

The male was shoved away, stumbling backwards, beholding the sight of the both of us. Sobbing, clinging to one another, feet sliding over the slippery floor.

Words bounced into my head, Nesta's sobs vibrating through me, but I couldn't understand, couldn't form the words to express how

scared

I was.

My blurred vision cleared, the male materializing once more, and that same tug I'd experienced earlier occurred again, only this time harder, more persistent.

I met his eye of russet, a shiver scaling down my spine. Sadness, and understanding, and sorrow stared back.

Nesta inspected me, hands roaming my body, weeping at the newfound changes. But I only noticed his hands as they slackened against his side.

One more tug, this time in my heart.

His voice cracked as he breathed in disbelief, "You're my mate."


End file.
